Thumb Still Working Fine!

Published: Friday, November 22, 2013 at 11:13 AM.

            I don’t know if you’ve heard any of it, or not. But there sure seems to be a lot of talk lately about health care in this country. Folks are particularly riled up over this thing. I can’t tell if they want more health care, or less. I believe the right to choose your own doctor and the health plan that fits your needs and your pocket book has a lot to do with the unrest. There also seems to be a distinct possibility that politics might be involved in this issue. 

            My health plan is to try and not get sick in the first place.

            I wear a jacket when it gets cold outside. I take those one a day vitamins for old people. I lay down every chance I get to give my innards a quiet respite. I wash my hands as frequently as possible and I don’t eat off of strangers’ plates. I drink an inordinate amount of Coca-Cola’s to keep my kidneys flushed out. And if one of my grandkids is coughing and throwing up I hand her to Cathy just as fast as I can!

            My accident policy revolves around not getting in cars with teenager drivers who think they are bulletproof.  I have carried a four leaf clover in my billfold since grade school. I don’t dance near the edge of any cliff, high beam, parasail or rooftop. And I try to avoid mean looking dogs, street gangs, knife throwing contests and church members who hold a grudge against me.

            Our earliest health plan consisted mostly of cod liver oil. Mother would line us up before school and pour a daily dose of that awful tasting stuff down our throats whether we wanted it or not! It didn’t matter if we were sick or in good health, whether the moon was full or waning, whether the Whooping Cough was running rampant or if all was calm in grammar school. I belched once in the second grade and wiped out a whole strain of Asian flu and cured two cases of the German measles!

            Mother didn’t think much of colas of any kind. She apparently was more worried about strong teeth and bones than our kidneys. Milk and orange juice were her beverages of choice for us. This was back in the age when the children didn’t get a vote. Mr. Holland near ’bout wore out that wagon hauling milk in those big thick bottles out to the house. We ate Wonder bread because it built “Strong Bodies 12 Ways”. We nibbled on more carrots than Bugs Bunny because it was good for our eyes. If Mom figured it had some intrinsic health value, real or imagined, we ate it, drank it, smelled it, rubbed in own our chest or wrapped it in a rag and tied it to an affected limb.

            Bumps and bruises were considered part of the daily routine. If it wasn’t bleeding or hanging, we didn’t pay much attention to it. A pretty good size cut would be treated with a dab of coal oil. If it really looked bad, a right good mixture of burnt oil and sulfur would cure about any cut, growth or unknown malady on the skin. It was also good for head lice, ticks, cutworms and mange.



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